IN many cases, English Heritage's position would be absolutely right: historic buildings have to be considered in their entirety, including their landscape and their less glamorous support buildings. Just cherry-picking their most stylish features doesn't preserve their essence.

You can't really win awards for your tastefully assembled outfits by day, only to stick them in some mothridden cupboard by night. Dressings rooms, such as the one that drives the entire plot of the Sex and The City movie, are the well put-together person's dream.

Nestled in the more charming villagey part of Pimlico, The Constitution is a butterfly of a pub. On certain visits we've found the clientele was resolutely of the local male variety, all there to watch the football. However, at certain times, a metamorphosis occurs and as the lone men wend their way home, they are replaced by younger, friendlier couples and groups all out for a quiet evening of socialising. As a result, the place magically become warmer and more inviting - unfortunately we just can't predict when this happens.

Considering Pete Clark mentions the Pride of Pimlico as a traditional pub he recommends, we thought we should go and have a look ourselves. The name might be a little overoptimistic considering the affluent area and range of competition, but considering this is an unreconstructed Irish pub, the name could just as easily be reference to a poem penned by Arthur Griffith, the man who negotiated the Anglo-Irish Treaty in 1920/1.

With less than five weeks until London chooses the next Mayor, the Standard today introduces its voters' panel. Our eight voters — five women and three men from all walks of life — will follow the campaigning before delivering their verdicts on 1 May. Each panellist will give his or her views on the candidates, their highs, lows and political promises. Between them, they will offer a sounding board for the electioneering that will decide London's future for the next four years.

Daylesford Organic's new Pimlico store is a show-stopper. Three storeys of pristine, pearly-marble-clad food porn for the urbanite gagging for a little rus in urbe action without any of the cows or manure or need for high-heel removal.